Not Even Close
by Zevus
Summary: The Leverage Crew is stuck in Hogwarts. They all have to be sorted, learn magic, and most importantly, find a way home. In the meantime spells are learned, friends made, and secrets revealed. To change the future, one person will have to reveal the past.
1. The Great Escape

**Author's Unimportant Note: I've had this idea inside my head for many months, I just suck at writing beginnings. So I didn't. UNTIL NOW. I've never really written anything with a big plot such as this, but hopefully I'll do alright. If you'd like to suggest anything, feel free. But I probably won't do it. Or care. Or even acknowledge your existence. But feel free.**

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><p><em>Le Prologué<em>

Professor Trelawney peered into the milky orb, her glasses clinking against it. Dumbledore stood silently behind her, waiting patiently. She continued to stare. He waited. She stared. Things did not get better.

Dumbledore coughed. "Um, Sybill, can you see anything?"

"No..." she drawled, dragging the word out as she tried to think of a lie to tell him. "I see uh, an um..." She started to massage the crystal ball with her palms, muttering under her breath. Right before Dumbledore was prepared to leave, she shot up in her chair, crooking her finger at the orb. "It's THEM."

Dumbledore looked swiftly over her shoulder, his eyes widening. "My, oh my." In the orb was a total of five people, all appearing to be muggles. One stood out in the front, a middle aged man with greasy, curly black hair. Trelawney ran her long fingernails against the cold glass, her mutterings becoming full sentences.

"There will be five. There will be five." She stared intently at the glass. "Five will walk in, but only four will walk out. One shall perish by their own choices, past, present, and future." Her head shot up. "Albus. Company's coming."

Dumbledore's brow furrowed. "But Sybill, these cannot possibly be wizards."

She started to shake. "Do not worry, Albus. I can only see bits of the future; it is much too deep for a Seer such as myself." As she finished, her crystal ball turned over, rolling off the desk and crashing against the wood floor, breaking into thousands of tiny pieces. Mist sizzled out from the glass, causing an unattractive stench to fill the air around them. Dumbledore sprayed some pocket-sized lemon air freshener.

"There is hope, Albus. After the destruction there will be light. And it will be beautiful, Albus. My god, it will be beautiful."

Uh-oh.

_End of Le Prologué_

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><p>"Guys, we have to move."<p>

Nate stood in the center of his apartment, looking seriously at the four people scattered lazily about. Eliot didn't even look up from his book titled _403 Ways to Study Butterflies._ Hardison was napping, his head lolled back on the couch, a gentle snore disrupting the air. Sophie was kindly helping Parker build a mini-parachute out of napkins, the Christmas kind. Nate glared angrily at the scene. For once, he actually had something important to say.

"Fine, you don't have to give a shit. But when the police knock down the front door in the next oh-" He glanced at his watch. "Twenty minutes, nobody is going to feel sorry for you."

Eliot dug the heel of his boot in the carpet, staining it with mud, just to piss Nate off.

Nate roared, slapping Hardison on the back of the head with a rolled up magazine. The Hacker shot up, swerving his head wildly around. "I'm here! I'm here! I was just about to hack whatever I was supposed to..."

"No, Alec." Sophie was attaching yarn to the napkin Parker currently held. She taped the end of the string to the corner of the napkin, placing it firmly and then standing up. "Nate was just saying that we have to move. Bloody hell, as if I could miss another one of my yoga classes..."

"You guys obviously don't understand the urgency of this situation." Nate grabbed the TV remote and flicked it on. "Look."

A reporter with a shitload of grease in his hair was standing in front of...holy shit, the building they were in. "Police officer James Sterling has announced that five con artists, yes, the five we have been searching for, are currently residing in the building behind me. Officers are currently climbing up the stairs, checking every room for the team. When they are found, they will be arrested and booked." The reporter shot a fake smile, the Botox making it difficult. His teeth blinded a part of the screen. "James Sterling will be rewarded many dollars for capturing them."

Parker grabbed the remote and slammed it against the wall before the reporter could finish. She strapped the parachute to her back, which was difficult since it was ten sizes too small. She pulled the window up, about to jump, but Eliot grabbed her around the waist. "Are you crazy? You'd be killed."

Nate paced nervously. "We have to get out, can't bring much. Hardison, grab the pile of cash we have under the floorboards. Stuff it in a suitcase, and we'll take the secret exit."

Hardison matched the reporter's grin. "Finally!" He squealed, sprinting into the other room. "Ten months, and we finally get to use the tunnel I built." The hacker's voice echoed across the room.

"We could go to Britain." Sophie suggested, her accent unpleasantly ringing in their ears.

"Um, no. No way." Eliot growled, staring at the Grifter with obvious distaste. "I was thinking more like Kentucky." He flipped through his wallet, showing Sophie a picture of him on a chestnut horse, naked. "Good times, Kentucky."

"NO!" Sophie pounded her foot. "Britain!"

At that instant, they heard shuffling feet coming up the stairs. "They're in here!" A muffled voice yelled. A large object banged on the door. "Open up, the police!"

Panicking, Sophie ran in circles, knocking over Parker. The blonde snaked over to Eliot's legs, grabbing his ankles. He gave a yelp of surprise, and fell on top of Parker. "Yay! Sex!" The blonde squealed, but Eliot quickly stumbled off of her, shaking himself off.

"No! Not sex!" He growled, almost bumping into Hardison.

"It's ready!" The Hacker screamed, already running toward the exit. It was a trapdoor in Nate's closet, and it led deep into the ground, finally earthing near the airport. A perfect escape route. "By the time the police find this, we'll be halfway to...wherever we're going." Hardison scratched his head. "Where ARE we going, anyway?"

"Britain!" Sophie screeched before she was so rudely shoved into the tunnel by Eliot. The team followed her down, Eliot last. As they heard the front door splinter to a million pieces, Eliot slammed the latch down, darkness engulfing the team.

And the journey began.

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><p>"I don't like it. It's cold in here." Parker shivered, wrapping her arms around herself. She and the rest of the team were slowly trudging across the muddy floor, avoiding the heavy beams holding the ground in place. Only Nate seemed excited, walking at the front of the group, a flashlight in hand. The sound of water slowly dripping could be heard, and Hardison stopped to splash a puddle in his face before moving on.<p>

"It was a lot warmer when I had 400 Mexicans in here digging." Hardison chattered, scooting next to Parker. The crew didn't speak for a while, and for a moment all hope seemed to be lost. Sophie was almost dead; she was leaning against the dirt wall, causing mud to drag across her on one side.

Finally, Nate's head hit a wooden door slanted across the ceiling and wall. "Ow!" He rubbed the top of his head, glaring angrily around. "Who put that there?"

"Pablo and Carlos." Hardison replied sincerely, pulling a key out of his jeans pocket and sticking it into the lock. It clicked open, and the team warily climbed out.

The local airport towered above them, but in front of the crew stood a small, cramped, airplane. It was a basic aircraft, and all of the team frowned except for Hardison, who was beaming. "I called in early and booked it! It's odd; nobody else seemed to want it. Isn't that weird?"

Sophie scratched her head. "How will we get to Britain in this tin can with wings?"

Nate was busy configuring the controls in the pilot section. "Who's going to fly, Hardison? We do have a pilot, right?" When Hardison looked down and grimaced, Nate roared like a dinosaur and banged his fist against the already cracked and dusty headboard.

Eliot walked casually up. "No probs, Nathan. I know how to fly." He picked at something in his fingernails, leaning all his weight on one leg.

"I do too!" Parker screeched, flapping her arms and buzzing around the crew, her spirits obviously lifted. Eliot tripped her as he was climbing in beside Nate, who had politely moved to the passenger seat. Hardison, Parker, and Sophie grudgingly climbed in the cramped back seat and, as the plane lifted off, the seats collapsed, causing the trio to be scattered across the floor.

"Bloody hell!" Sophie screamed. "It's not worth it. Go ahead and arrest me, Sterling, I'd rather that than this bullshit!"

The team ignored her.

About five hours later, the plane started to rattle and smoke combusted out on the engine. Eliot tried to steer it, but the sharp turn he made caused the plane to flip and tumble down to the ground.

"We're crashing!" Hardison screamed, his arms swinging madly in the air. As the plane shot down, Eliot looked at the coordinates.

"We're right above Britain." He grunted rather unhappily, pulling up on the controls sharply, but getting no response. The steer ripped off, blowing wildly in the plane.

"YAY!" Sophie yelled, suddenly happy. She crawled over to the window, looking down at her beloved home. All she saw was forests and fields, an occasional house. "Boo." She cried unhappily, drawing her knees to her chest. "No people."

The plane hurtled down, and, with a loud bang, crashed in the trees. Everybody shot to the front of the plane from the force, getting cuts and bruises and everything. Nobody moved for a while, but Sophie finally grunted and heaved herself up, climbing out of the trees and falling to the ground, like a monkey.

"Help!" Nate groaned, his limp body being dragged out of the plane by Eliot and Hardison. "They're gonna kill me! My team is going to kill me!" Both Eliot and Hardison let go of Nate and let his body drop to the ground, no sound except for the soft thud his head made.

"Why are we gonna kill you Nate?" Parker looked at him innocently, crawling over to her boss. "What'd you do?"

"I didn't put the extra gas Hardison got in the plane." Nate sobbed, covering his face. Eliot kicked him, calling him a dumbass, but everybody else remained silent.

"We're in the middle of stupid Britain, Nate! Britain! Even if we DO find people, all we'll get is tea and crumpets! TEA AND CRUMPETS, NATE. DO YOU WANT TO EAT THAT? I DIDN'T THINK SO!" Eliot pouted in the corner, but as he did Parker slowly staggered up, pointing.

"Look."

A few miles out stood a giant castle, soft fields surrounding it. There were obvious signs of civilization, and the team stared for a while. "PEOPLE! YAY!" Hardison jumped up. "There probably aren't any Sterlings either." He started to jolt in the castle's general direction, but Eliot pushed him back.

"If we're gonna go, we're gonna take our time. I need my stomach empty to make room for tea." Eliot glanced around. "That way none of the other food in my stomach is ruined."

"Fine." Nate sighed, glancing at the castle again. "I guess we don't have a choice. All our money burned up in the crash."

The team continued to stare for a moment before staggering up and walking towards the castle.


	2. Lemon Drops & Lumos

**Author's Unimportant Note: I wrote this chapter while listening to 'Tik Tok' by Kesha. It's a deep, meaningful song about love and loss, the hardships of life, and overcoming the obstacles that obstruct you from following your dreams. This chapter could easily be affected by all of this.**

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><p>"NO. We are not going in looking like this. It'd be dreadful." Sophie looked down at her bloody and torn clothing, frowned, and grabbed Nate's bicep.<p>

They were on the steps of the Castle, right in front of the door, and Sophie picks that time to complain about how she looks. So they sat, for ten minutes, as Sophie used a puddle as a mirror and fixed her hair, flipped her shirt inside out, and attempted to clean off the dirt and blood and sweat caked to her face. She was busy painting her nails with some of her blood when Hardison finally got up and tole her 'bout herself.

"Now look, Sophie, we are all tired and dirty and stuff. Don't you think it'd be better to go in and receive a nice, hot bath? Get yo ugly ass up and lets go meet some brothas."

But, as Nate's hand reached to knock on the front door, it burst open, and an elderly man with a long beard stretched his hands out. "Welcome, visitors!" He attempted to give them all hugs, but they jerked away and stared at him like a group of deer in headlights. The man frowned, looking at all of them. Suddenly, he brightened. "Come to my office! You must have a story to tell." He turned around and started walking down the hall, as if he expected them to follow.

""C'mon, guys." Eliot growled. "He seems harmless. Let's go."

So they followed the man down long halls and passageways, up many staircases and then down some. The whole building was odd, as if it belonged in a fairytale, not reality, and Nate did a double take when what appeared to be a ghost floated across one of the halls, not even glancing at them.

Parker screamed when they were shuffled into a dim room, presentably the man's office. The pictures moved, weird objects were scattered across the cramped room, and a butt ugly bird was sitting in a cage in the corner. "OH MY GOD!" Parker exclaimed, pointing randomly at different items. "THIS IS SO COOL." She pointed at a scraggly old hat.

"Parker, out of all the shit in this room, you pick THAT to idolize?" Nate sniffed, looking around. "It smells so strongly of lemon in here I feel as if I'll pass out."

"Oh Merlin, I'm terribly sorry." The man was shuffling behind his desk. "I'll fix it right away." The man picked up an unusually pointy stick, waved it around his head, and muttered. "EXPECTO SMELLTRONUM."

The room suddenly became filled with the overwhelming stench of lime.

"You all are probably wondering who I am." The man intertwined his fingers on his desk, looking at all of them in turn. "Well, my name is Albus...Albus..." The man looked down in deep thought, scrunching his eyebrows.

"Dumbledore?" Finished a painting on the left wall.

"Dumbledore!" The man snapped his fingers, eyes lighting up. "Many thanks." He stopped, looking back at the crew. "My name is Albus Dumbledore, and I am the head of Hogwarts, school of Witchcraft and Wizardry." He beckoned to Nate. "Come here, Mr. Ford."

"How do you know my name?" Nate squinted suspiciously, grabbing the arm of a chair but stumbling back when it hissed at him.

"Why silly, I know ALL your names!" Dumbledore exclaimed, smiling with excitement. His face changed. "It's not like I was expecting you or anything...that'd mean you'd be part of a prophecy or something...ha." He looked around nervously. "What's Snape's boggart? A BOTTLE OF SHAMPOO! Ha ha ha."

Dumbledore seemed satisfied. His awesome joke seemed to have confused the visitors, so he continued as if there had been no interruption. "I don't know why you are here, but I assume it had something to do with the Muggle plane some Hufflepuff students saw go down as they were in the greenhouse."

"A Jigglypuff saw a what kind of plane go down?" Eliot cocked his head.

"Oh nothing. Shush." Parker said, looking at something in Dumbledore's hand.

"Oh my, I've been terribly rude, haven't I?" Exclaimed Dumbledore, following Parker's gaze. "Would you fine fellows like a lemon drop? They're terribly delicious."

He gave them each one before they could respond, and everybody but Parker gagged on theirs. Parker looked at Dumbledore in awe. "Can I, can I have another one?" Dumbledore's eyes lit up faster than they did when he got socks for Christmas.

"Why certainly." He poured ten more into her palm, and she ate them in less than a minute.

"That's disgusting, Parker." Sophie looked at the blonde nastily before returning her gaze to the crazy old man in front of her. "You said you were a wizard or sorcerer or something?"

"Correct, Miss Devereaux. Here at Hogwarts, we take young students and teach them magic so they can later practice it in the magical world. We have grades 6th through 12th, but here we just say a number and then _year_ after it." Dumbledore raised his palms in surrender with a stupid smile on face. "School policy." He said in a lispy and homosexual way. "Anyhoo, you guys saw the school outside, so you must be wizards. We're only two days into this year's term, so it's like, fate is on our side. We have some extra school supplies in storage. You'll be starting classes tomorrow. Twidleedoo. You guys understand?"

"No-"

"GREAT!" The elderly "wizard" shuffled around his desk, pulling out five sets of what appeared to be a school uniform. "Too bad you weren't able to acquire wands." Dumbledore sat the clothing down on his desk. "Hmm... What to do..." He suddenly spied a potted tree in the corner of his room. "Aha!"

Dumbledore took a large branch, broke it into five pieces, and gave each of them a stick about a foot long. He mindlessly returned to shuffling around his room, humming a tune.

"Um, hello? What the hell is this shit?" Sophie waved her stick around the air in front of her. "And didn't you say something about signing us up or something, for like, a magazine?"

Parker chewed on the end of her stick. "I CAN'T WAIT! Sophie did you hear the man? We're WIZARDS."

Hardison whispered something to Nate, who rolled his eyes, huffing "I know, I know."

"Okay, Mr. Dumbledore, I'm sorry to break it to you, but we think you're crazy as hell and we'll be leaving in about...right now." Nate grabbed his team and started pushing them out of the door, screaming in pain when Parker bit his forearm.

"No. I want to learn magic and be a fairy." The blonde gripped the hissing chair as Nate struggled to pull her out of the room by her ankles. His face was red and his curly hair drenched in sweat when he finally gave up, grabbing his stick and hitting himself with it, tears streaming down his scarlet cheeks.

"Okay, so this probably isn't the best time to mention this but..." Dumbledore, twiddled his thumbs and looked up at the ceiling. "You all are going to have to be sorted at like-" He looked at the sports watch on his wrist. "5 o'clock."

"I DON'T UNDERSTAND ANY OF THIS." Hardison cried, waving his hands around madly.

"Allow me to explain." Dumbledore chuckled softly, swiftly going to where Hardison was having a mild spaz attack. He grabbed the Hacker's wrist, putting the plain stick into his hand. "Now, Mr. Hardison, I want you to point your wand straight in the air, and while concentrating, mutter "_Lumos_." Understand?"

Hardison shook his head, but closed his eyes and concentrated really hard.

"_Lumos_."

The whole team, including Hardison, gasped when a small light grew at the tip of his wand, casting shadows across the cramped room. "Amazing!" Clapped Sophie, giving a few giggles. "What's your trick?"

"Mag_ic_." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled.

"No, old man, I meant your REAL trick."

Dumbledore chuckled. "It's true, Mrs. Devereaux." He spread his arms. "Everything in this room is magic. Even I'm magic! But that is called-" He stopped, looking confused. "I had something for that quote, I forget."

Ten minutes later Dumbledore had still not figured out what he was going to say. "Oh well. I'm going to hide you guys here until a quarter to five, where the Hogwarts Potions Master will come and pick you up and escort you to the second new student feast! Ta-ta!"

And with that the old man skipped out of the room, locked it, and Nate, Sophie, Eliot, Hardison, and Parker were left alone.


	3. Violation of Rule 893

**Author's Unimportant Note: I decided to make Harry & Company in 3rd year, because that'll be easiest to write. Despite this, I'm probably going to reference later books because it'd make it funnier. Man, this chapter was longer than I expected it to be.**

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><p>"Yeah, I mean, I WANT to pick the lock, but there is no lock."<p>

Parker was poking where the doorknob had once been on Dumbledore's...door. While the team had been arguing it had combusted and curled, chipping off until there was nothing left. The wood where it had once been was smooth and unblemished, as if it had never been there.

"This is obviously a scam." Sophie rolled her eyes, flicking a piece of magic dust off her shoulder. "The thing with the wand and the light was _so_ fake. You could see the electrical wiring sticking out one of the stick ends."

"No, you couldn't." Hardison hissed, looking at his wand impressively. "I did it all by myself, excluding the help from the old guy, and I am going to be an AWESOME wizard. Just you wait! After a few weeks of training, I'll be kicking warlock ass like I do on all my MMORPGS."

Meanwhile, Nate was sitting in the Thinker pose, brewing up a plan. The cranks in his brain creaked before slowly turning, a thought starting at the very back of his conscious and morphing into words he could understand. As this complicated formula stewed in his brain, it slowly connected to a deeper, more complicated plan, which merged with an even DEEPER, more complex plan. Finally, Nate stood up.

"We run away as fast as we can when the Potions guy lets us out!"

"That's a terrible idea." Eliot scowled, placing his head in his palms and running his fingers through his luscious hair. The rest of the team agreed simultaneously, and Nate frowned, pocketing his wand and sitting back down.

It was at least two hours until the door finally opened with a loud bang. Smoke shot in the room, behind it a horrible stench; herbs, wood, and unscented deodorant. Nate coughed, stumbling at the possible threat with his hand outstretched. He was pushed back with an invisible force, slamming against Dumbledore's desk, which turned into pillows as his body touched it. "What the fuck? That old man sure is crazy." Nate discarded the thought and grabbed a particularly large beige pillow and covered his face with it, shaking.

It sounded as if a snake was slithering across the wooden floor, but when the smoke cleared they realized it was just the sound of robes swishing against the ground. Their eyes slowly traveled up, gasping at the grotesque site.

"His HAIR!" Eliot screeched. "Look at his HAIR!" Before them stood what was most likely a man; he had dark greasy hair that fell to his shoulders, and what looked to be a permanent scowl on his face. You could see where the dust collected in the creases of his face, his expression had been the same for so long.

"Well isn't this a...surprise." The man said, his beady little eyes surveying the room with distaste. When his gaze fell on Sophie, she let out a little squeal and turned away modestly. His scowl deepened. "I suppose Hogwarts will take in ANY student nowdays. A shame, really." He looked at them one last time before swerving and marching out the door.

"Follow."

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><p>It was awkward, following the creepy man down all the corridors. At one point he pushed them in an empty classroom, flinging their uniforms in after them and slamming the door shut. The clothes were itchy, uncomfortable, and they smelled like Pine-Sol. But the Leverage crew didn't complain, the Potions teacher seemed rather twitchy and on the edge.<p>

They walked silently, and it wasn't until they were almost to the Great Hall that Sophie realized she didn't know this _sexy_ professor's name.

"What's your name?"

"You may call me Professor Snape." Snape did not break his gaze from in front him. Sophie tried to get closer to him, but for every step she took, Snape took two. This lasted until he stopped, causing Sophie to slam into him, much to his distaste. "You will wait in this room until the Headmaster calls out your name. You will then walk onto the stage and sit on the stool, putting the Sorting Hat on your head. Proffesor McGonagall should explain the rest."

He said this all as if he expected them to understand it, and before they could question him he shoved them into the room and left. It was becoming a habit.

Brushing herself off, Parker admired her new clothes. "It's so cool! Like a school uniform!" She ran her fingers across the fabric, shuddered in ecstasy, and continued to fawn over her clothes.

"Maybe because it IS a school uniform." Eliot muttered, looking at his own set in distaste. It was a size too small; since they were a wee bit older than most students they all got the maximum size available, and unfortunately Eliot's bulky character did not appreciate it.

"Don't worry, once you learn magic you can just resize it or something." Hardison was so excited he was shaking. "I wanna know what the Sorting Hat is!"

They were suddenly engulfed with the sound of hundreds of people clapping; it shook the walls and Sophie fell headfirst into the fire cracking softly at the base of the wall. She screamed, but the fire must have been magic-y, because she merely got a huge rash on her face and didn't burn at all.

"My gorgeous skin!" Sophie sobbed, scratching her cheeks, making it worse. Nate pulled out some portable Olay and tried to make it better, but it only made Sophie smell strongly of pineapples.

The clapping ceased as suddenly as it began, and Nate figured that it was time to go. "How cool would we look if we went without being asked! C'mon, let's go!" He grabbed all of them, pushing them towards the door that led out of the room and into the Great Hall. Hardison tripped, and they stumbled onto the cold stone, in front of all the students and faculty of Hogwarts.

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><p>"You LOST them? How fucking incompetent ARE you?"<p>

"You do not talk to your superior like that."

"Oh go to HELL and suck a dick asswipe."

Sterling didn't deserve to lose his job. He had merely expressed his opinion, and his boss, with his ugly face, fired him. America these days, he thought. Freedom is a joke.

Sterling's tie was currently lying in a ditch, and his dress shirt stained with alcohol. He had no stable income, and he was about to lose his gigantic house filled with rich expensive things. How sad is this scene? Is it sad yet? No? Sterling also ran over a puppy in a drunken stupor. Now you can get the full effect on how sad it is.

He cried for four hours, ate a cheeseburger, and cried some more. "They ruin me! They bring out the worst in me! They deserve death! WOE IS ME!"

That's when the idea sizzled in his brain. Quite possibly the best idea he EVER had. Kill the con artists, get revenge. Simple right? No. He would have to sniff them out with his super good smelling skills, which would take approximately three days.

But he was Sterling! James Sterling! And he was always up for the task.

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><p>The Great Hall was so incredibly silent that you could hear the unusually loud breathing of Cho Chang. The first one to stand up was Nate, who looked around awkwardly, raising his hand to wave but changing his mind.<p>

"Well, erm...this is what I was going to tell you." Dumbledore said after the rest of the team stood up. "These wizards came to Hogwarts earlier today, and they didn't even know they were wizards! How stupid are they?"

All of the Hogwarts students laughed hysterically and pointed at the group, making fun of them.

"Shush." Dumbledore snapped, trying to stay on topic(which was hard, because the image of a fresh lemon drop was lingering in his brilliant mind). "The wizards explicitly expressed their agreement to stay and learn at Hogwarts. Even though they do not have prior experience with magic, I have decided to put them in third year, so their age difference isn't that great and they are still doing basic magic."

A skinny ginger boy openly groaned from one of the tables, but was nudged harshly in the side by a brown-haired girl sitting next to him.

"We will accept them, love them, and be nice to them. If you don't, I'll expel you. Time for the sorting!"

Dumbledore raised his arms gleefully and sat back down in his chair, pulling out a bowl of lemon drops. The Great Hall buzzed slightly with short whispers, usually followed by a curious look or an angry glare. A mean looking witch carried a stool to the center of the stage, sitting the ugly hat they saw in Dumbledore's officer earlier on it. This must have been Professor McGonagall, because she pulled out a roll of paper and looked at them expectantly. "You will sit on the chair, put the hat on your head, and you will then sit at the table of the house it calls out. Let's get this over with. Fo-"

"Excccuse me ma'aaaam." Sophie's annoying voice rang throughout the room, shattering the eardrums of a few students. "I'm confused. We sit on the stool and then the hat talks or something?"

McGonagall banged her head against the palm of her hand, sighed, and muttered "Yes."

"Get on wit' it Minerva." Dumbledore whispered encouragingly, enchanting a lemon drop to float to her. She slapped it out the air, threw it at him, and continued.

"Ford, Nathan."

Nate was halfway to the stool when Dumbledore screamed. "We forgot the song! It always has a song! Go ahead, Hatty! Don't be shy!"

Dumbledore pushed Nate back to his original spot with a moving spell, looking at the hat with excitement. All of the Leverage crew looked confused, but the color drained from their faces when the hat actually started singing.

It went a little like this-

_I see we have five new wizards here_

_Thus is the second Hat song of the year_

_You may think of me as a hat, _

_but to that I will object_

_Because when it comes to brains, _

_I'm different then the rest_

_When it comes to singing, _

_I always pass the test_

_When it comes to sorting,_

_I __am never second best_

_And when it comes to sorting you, _

_hope to be blessed_

_I must sort you into the place you most belong_

_But fear me, strangers, I have never been wrong_

_So slip me on your crown, _

_and I'll do what I always do:_

_I'll see to which house I should place you!_

_Will it be Slytherin, _

_a house in which one of you belong_

_Or will it be Gryffindor, _

_full of the worthy and strong?_

_Will it be Hufflepuff, _

_the most easiest road_

_Or Ravenclaw, _

_where the sly shall be stowed?_

_Will you all suffer the same, _

_or your sorting you will hate_

_You most certainly not hope for the same exact fate_

_For one of you shall perish, _

_by choices both future and past_

_It was a spell, wasn't it, _

_that you so dearly cast?_

_It must have been, _

_to have done what you did_

_You are a coward, _

_for the truth you have hid_

_In fact, I'll reveal it, _

_reveal the whole past_

_And from all of us you shall feel the wrath_

_I'll start by ratting, _

_by becoming a snitch_

_Then I'll go on to you being a selfish little bitch!_

_What you did to those people,_

_I cannot forgive!_

_Not one innocent day from this moment you'll live!_

_You little fucking whiner, _

_I should just end you_

_Yeah, I'll end you just like-_

Suddenly, a chair was flung at the Sorting Hat, knocking it down and causing it to break its song. The chair was thrown from where the Leverage crew was standing, but it was such a confusing situation nobody knew who did it. the Great Hall broke out in gasps as the idiot children gaped at the Sorting Hat, who was currently crumpled on the floor, looking like a, well, hat.

Dumbledore raised his robes with his hands so he wouldn't step on them and hurried to the Sorting Hat, moving the now broken chair with a flick of his wand and placing the hat back gently on the stool, murmuring sweet nothings.

McGonagall coughed, raising her rolled up parchment at the Headmaster. He got the signal and grudgingly sat back down, his lemon drops skewed across the floor, much to the dismay of the teachers, who kept stepping on them.

"Ford, Nathan." Nate was somewhat scared to approach the Sorting Hat, probably because he expected another chair to be flung out of nowhere.

He picked up the hat; it felt like old leather and smelled like sweat. He put the hat on his curly head and scrunched his eyes.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Neville clapped loudly, his cheers booming across the hall, mostly because he was the only one doing it. The rest of Gryffindor was groaning heavily.

"Bless you." Nate said politely, taking off the hat.

"No, fool, it means you're now part of Gryffindor. Go sit at that table." McGonagall pointed to one of the four tables in the room, nudging Nate towards in and calling out the next name.

"Devereaux, Sophie."

"Spencer, Eliot."

"Hardison, Alec."

ALL Gryffindor. By now a few of the older Gryffindors were glaring around angrily due to the Slytherins' laughs and mockery. Hardison managed to have a 45 minute conversation with the Sorting Hat about plants, and by then McGonagall just got up and shocked the hat with her wand, causing it to scowl at her and mutter "Gryffindor."

Parker. She was the last one, and if you had asked anyone on the Leverage crew, they would have said everybody would be here until midnight, the hat would take so long to untangle her brain. She skipped to the stool, eagerly grabbing the hat and shoving it on her head.

_**Ah, Miss Parker. Only one name, no back story. This is troublesome.**_

_I like pineapples. Sophie smells likes pineapples today._

_**I noticed Miss Deveraux's scent, it was quite strong. Your emotions are also strong, but I cannot seem to place them.**_

_I LOVE ponies._

_**Do you want to be with your friends?**_

_Only if you want me to be, Mr. Hat. You are my favorite hat in the whole entire world!_

_**Ah, so that is a yes then? If it's a yes, then it's a yes to**_

"GRYFFINDOR!"

The students sweated with joy at the thought of the feast ending. Dumbledore stood up, and, after five minutes of suspense, he spoke. "LET THE FEAST BEGIN!"

Nobody began eating. The food was ice cold and their appetite was lost. Dumbledore stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Remus, what do you think?"

"I suppose we should release the students to their dormitories. It is late." Lupin suggested, wanting to leave as much as the rest of the staff.

"Very well. LISTEN, LUPIN TOLD ME TO LET YOU LEAVE. SO THERE WE GO. LEAVE." Dumbledore sobbed, turning away so his students wouldn't see his tears. He ran down the steps, covering his face and heading toward his office.

Nate, Sophie, Eliot, Hardison, and Parker were all sitting at the Gryffindor table, next to the ginger kid and his two friends. The brown-haired girl was complaining to the redhead rather loudly. "The chair being thrown at the Sorting Hat was an obvious violation of Rule 893 of the Hogwarts handbook. Under Section B in the chapter titled _Throwing, A Sin_ it CLEARLY states no material object should be thrown at the Sorting Hat." She pulled out a handbook and circled the paragraph with a feather, showing her friend.

"Hermione. I don't care. I promise you, I DON'T CARE."

"Kid, I hate to break it to you, but you have a scar on your head." Eliot thumped a short skinny boy on the forehead, causing his glasses to knock off.

"Of _course_ he does." Hermione huffed. "He's Harry Potter."

"I want to see the scar." Nate shouldered his way into eyesight of the boy. He glanced at it, his eyes widening at the shape of the scar, but shrugged. "Oh." He tried to sound cool.

"Nonsense Nathan. It's adorable." Sophie slapped Nate's arm. "What's your name?" She asked, obviously ignoring Hermione's earlier statement.

"Um..." The boy thought for a bit. "It's my bedtime, sorry." With that he proceeded to RUN AWAY from them, his friends following closely behind, not looking back.

"Gosh, it's like they didn't want to be near us." Hardison rolled his eyes out of offense.

"Where are we going to sleep?" Parker yawned, stuffing a couple of strewn lemon drops in her bra.

"Dunno." Nate looked around, spotting a couple of Gryffindors. "Let's follow them."


	4. Fawktehand

**Author's Unimportant Note: REVIEW YOU MOTHERFUCKERS! Think of it this way: The more you review, the faster I'll write, and the sooner it'll end. So by reviewing you cause this fic to end faster than it normally would have. Wait...what.**

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><p>"Don't you see, Albus? The Sorting Hat confirmed what I predicted! I MUST be right!" Trelawney was swiftly following the Headmaster to his office, her eyes darting around with uncontrolled excitement.<p>

Dumbledore was petting the old hat softly, singing an ancient lullaby. "Nonsense. I gave Hatty some sugar candy before the feast, that must have been the cause of his outbursts." He raised the hat to look at it more closely. "Little Sorty just got a bit hyper, didn't it?"

The hat did not move or signal any form of response.

"That's what I thought." Dumbledore replied, walking a bit faster to shake off Professor Trelawney. The Divination teacher seemed determined to prove her prediction, though, so she merely caught up with Dumbledore and started rambling some more.

"Blah blah blah bla-blah blah blah lemon drops blah blah blah." Trelawney droned on, not stopping to breathe. "Blah blah blah blah gay sex bl-blah blah blah blah blah."

Dumbledore finally reached his office, slowly closing his door on her face; slamming it would be rude and undignified.

"This ISN'T OVER!"

"Look. The chair was from IKEA. It's not like it being broke was a big deal."

"Headmaster, the chair is only a minor object in a chain of events!"

"Bye Sybill."

_click._

* * *

><p>"So we're red?" Sophie asked as they chased the fearful students down the halls. "I look great in red!"<p>

Eliot coughed loudly, but he was quickly interrupted by the two Gryffindors stopping abruptly. "Look." The first one said, his cheeks beet red from the running. "Stop following us! We're at the entrance to the Gryffindor common room, where you stay." The second one looked at them suspiciously before turning to a picture of a fat chick and muttering something.

The fat chick swung open, and the two students crawled in, shutting the entrance before the Leverage crew could go in. "Damn. There must be a password, and I didn't bring my hacker equipment." Hardison emptied his pockets, not realizing he was wearing new clothes. The crew stood there for about twenty minutes, waiting patiently for someone to come along and open it.

Meanwhile, thirty feet away...

"C'mon Ron! It's late, we have to go in there." Hermione tapped her foot, looking at her two best friends with obvious distress.

"No way. No way am I getting in a situation where I have to talk to those guys." Ron pointed at the five new students with distaste, nudging Harry. "Look at them. Just standing there."

"I dunno Ron, the people seem kind of nice. They're probably scared because they're in a new environment." At this point Sophie slapped Eliot hard on the face, screaming cuss words at the Hitter and madly flailing her arms.

"Yeah, nice."

"Gosh, you men are so childish some times!" Hermione huffed, grabbing her _Magick and Christianity; A Controversy_ hardcover and walking toward the five new students. They were standing there, heads low, talking among themselves in sudden secrecy, but doing it very badly. When Hermione approached, the brunette one raised her head and looked around.

"GUYS, WE SHOULD ASK THIS YOUNG LADY ABOUT THE _COOKING INGREDIENTS_ WE WERE JUST TALKING ABOUT." She looked pointedly at Hermione, who seemed unimpressed. "COOKING INGREDIENTS. NOT ESCAPE PLANS. NEVER ESCAPE PLANS. THIS ADOLESCENT LOOKS AS IF SHE LIKES FOOD A LOT."

Hermione scowled. "Well, if you five don't mind, I would like to enter my dormitory now."

"Great!" Nate rubbed his hands together. "We were waiting for someone to come along and give us the password."

"Well, if you _must_ know, the password is 'Fawktehand' and you mustn't give the password to anyone non-Gryffindor."

Eliot exploded with laughter, red in the face. Hermione, along with the rest of the team, looked at him strangely. He recomposed himself and returned their looks. "What? 'Fawktehand?' Does nobody else realize what that sounds like?"

The entrance had already creaked open from Hermione saying the password, and the Leverage crew ignored him and one by one climbed into the portrait, Sophie only stopped to tell the Fat Lady that she needed to "lose serious weight."

The common room looked cozy and beautiful, with poofy chairs and old wooden tables, completed with a fire crackling joyfully on the center wall. Many students were chattering happily with friends as they entered, but stopped suddenly and stared at them.

The silence was awkward.

Very awkward.

EXTREMELY awkward.

"Um." Said Hardison, swerving his head around as if he was a dog. "Hi. I'm Alec. I...I like wizards." Eliot bumped him and muttered something about him being a wizard, looked at Harry, and simply asked him where his room was.

"Well...er...I guess since you were put in year three you would bunk with us..." He nudged Ron for support, and the ginger looked up, surprised.

"Uh, yeah. But there are no extra beds. You would probably be WAY more comfortable sleeping in here. Yeah."

Nate chuckled. "Nonsense. Look, someone left five lovely sleeping bags for us." He was correct; five rolled up sleeping bags lay near the fire, almost begging to be slept in. At Nate's words Parker ran up and grabbed the only one with unicorns on it, hugging it gently and hissing at Parvati when she passed.

Ron banged his head on his palm. "My rutty luck." As he did this a quirky looking boy came up, tapping Nate on the shoulder. "Sir, our room is up that stairwell, sir." He pointed, and Ron banged his head even harder.

"Why thanks, boy." Said Nate, heading up the staircase, Eliot and Hardison following him. "What's your name? Neville Longbottom? How odd..."

Hermione sighed. "I guess you two will be sleeping in my dormitory." She turned reluctantly and headed up a stairwell, Sophie following closely behind and Parker nomming gently on a lemon drop.

They slept wonderfully.

* * *

><p>The walls, stained with blood, could not conceal the shadows flittering across their broken face. The shadows moved quickly, without patience, without mercy.<p>

"Move faster." A growl could be heard amongst three people. They trekked even faster, now running, down the dark tunnel, no light but _Lumos_ to guide them. The footing was difficult, the ground not smooth as the tunnel was rarely used. "We have to reach him."

"It'll be too late." The lights of their wands flickered across damp soil, their shoes sucking into the ground. Rain pounded overhead, their ears filled with pressure. The tunnel closed in, and they all took turns crawling through, dirt streaking their dark attire. The leader, his shaggy hair acquiring small particles of dirt and leaf, continued to run, not waiting for the others. "He has to be okay!"

"Wait up!" Said the last, panting. He reached out against the cave, trying to pull himself forward from the narrow part. Unsuccessful, the other boy grabbed the last's arm, trying to pull him himself. When that did not work, he gave the last one final fleeting glance before turning and running without him, leaving the boy screaming and begging for help.

The now running boy could not catch up with his friend. "Wait up!" but his words had no effect, the first continued running at the same pace, his long hair bellowing behind him.

"I have to find him!" He came to a stop, gasping for breath. He pushed open a latch, entering a large, cold room. The wind and rain were at full force, as the room was rotting and unprotected. His friend caught up with him, panting as he did. They looked into the room, and as they did the first one let out a long, sad wail.

"Moony, no!"

* * *

><p>"They were utterly terrible!" Hermione said as she slammed her Transfiguration book down on the Gryffindor table. "Sophie, if that's her name, put her sleeping bag right next to mine while Parker taped hers to the ceiling with the last of my magical tape!" She looked at Harry and Ron sourly. "How did the men do?"<p>

"Well." Said Ron, spreading butter on his already buttered toast. "Eliot wasn't so bad, that's the buff one, but the other two were. Nate told me and Harry that he'd protect me if bullies tried to hurt us, as if we need that. And I said 'No thanks' politely but inside I was screaming 'OH HELL NO.'"

Harry tried to hush him as he was saying this, but Ron just spoke louder. As he finished, someone tapped him on the shoulder. It was Nate. He looked angry. Ron offered him his toast. Nate did not accept.

"So you don't want to be protected? Then I won't protect you. Not even if you're about to die." Nate looked upsettingly at the two boys, sitting down next to Harry. "Speaking of death, why does that Neville kid snore so much? I think I lost half my brain cells from the loudness of that."

"Er." Said Harry, not wanting to make fun of people.

"Is that ALL you can say?" Nate looked at him suspiciously. "It's all I ever hear from you. Er this and er that. It's annoying."

"Er." Harry said.

"Harry, that is very rude, mocking him like that." Hermione said from the other side of the table, giving Harry a sharp look. "If you have not forgotten, they will be in ALL of our classes from now on."

Ron cried baby tears, which Sprout shuffled over quickly to bottle. After she had filled four gallon sized containers and a shot glass, she scuffled away with glee.

"Hey, where's everybody else?" Nate looked around, munching on a muffin the size of his head. So, you know, a huge muffin. "There's Sophie!" He pointed.

Sophie was bothering Cho Chang, waving something pink around. Cho looked very scared, and Harry stood up to defend her, but Nate shoved him down. "Don't worry. She'll stop. Hopefully."

A few minutes later Sophie slammed herself next to Hermione, who spilled her juice. "That Asian chick was trying to steal my wand!" She held up the pink think they saw her waving earlier; it was a pink princess wand with a star at the top. "She went up to me and was all like 'Har, dats not a real wand, I had one of thoze wen I was little.' She was SO obviously trying to steal it. I told her it was better than the stick her creepy Headmaster gave me, then she started to bitch about not insulting bumblebees or something, I wasn't paying attention. Anyway, I showed her when I drop kicked a picture she was carrying. It was of you, Scar Boy."

Harry blushed every shade of red.

The Gryffindors ate in silence for a bit, and soon Eliot and Hardison showed up together. They claimed they were using the toilet, but Eliot's shirt was only partially buttoned and Hardison was red-black.

Sophie stopped suddenly. "Where's Parker?"

* * *

><p>A gentle knock on his office door awoke Dumbledore from his favorite daydream: he was riding a unicorn, a crown of daisies upon is head. "Come in!" He called lazily from his desk, quickly picking up a piece of paper and a quill in case it was McGonagall checking if he was doing work.<p>

Parker burst into the room, digging through all of his stuff and throwing things around the room. "Where are they? Where are the lemon drops?"

Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling with tears of happiness, opened a large drawer in his desk and pulled out some of them. Parker ran to grab them, but Dumbledore stopped her mid-grab. "I see you have become partial to lemon drops. Sadly, most students and staff members do not care for them, so they have built up over time."

"I NEED ONE. SO BAD." She panted, looking at the lemon candy with wild eyes. Dumbledore plucked one out of the large pile, handing it to her. She unwrapped it like a madman and shoved it in her mouth. "Delicious."

Dumbledore clapped and shouted with glee, shuffling around his desk, looking for something. He pulled out a large Crown Royal bag, stuffed with lemon drops, and handed it to her. "The only thing I ask is that you do not get caught eating these in class. The staff would kill me."

"Deal! YOU ARE AWESOME." She stuffed the bag in her pocket, pulling out her wand. "Look what I learned! _Lumos._"

Nothing happened. "Very good!" Dumbledore clapped. "Great first try!" He pulled out a lemon drop. "Here is a reward for doing so good."

"Yay!"

"Look at the time." Dumbledore said, eyeing a large clock in his room. "You're almost late for class! Hurry along!"

"Will do, Dumbledore! I can't wait to learn magic!"

The bell rung.


	5. Neville's State & Parker's Fate

**Author's Unimportant Note: I've been on vacation for a bit. But mostly I just didn't feel like writing. If you want you can pretend I've been saving kittens from ghetto neighborhoods, I totally will go with that. So yes, that's what I've been doing.**

* * *

><p>Parker walked silently toward her first class of the day. It was something called "Transfiguration" and she was slightly worried. She did not hate gays, and she certainly did not want to study about them being disfigured. "Ah well." She whispered to herself, dragging her feet across the once smooth floor. The lemon drops were weighing her down; it seemed as if the Crown Royal bag was somehow bewitched to carry more than it appeared.<p>

"La de da le da." The Thief sang quietly to herself, doing a sort of jig as she walked. The bell had rung nearly ten minutes ago, but Parker figured that the Transfiguration teacher would understand her not being punctual. Surely all of the staff had tasted the delicious lemon drop? She might even get bonus points by giving them some.

"Doop de blip bot." She hummed, quickening her pace ever so slightly. She was only three doors away from McGonagall's classroom when the lights went out and a chilly breeze filled the corridor. One would probably think of a dementor. But it wasn't one.

Parker stumbled to the ground, clutching the pocket that held her lemon drops. As her gaze slowly traveled upward, she gasped at the sight.

* * *

><p>"Where is that damn girl?" Nate looked at his watch irritably, shuffling his feet. It was nearly time for their first class, and Parker was still missing. The third years surrounding him and his non-missing team were looking at them nervously, as if they were going to attack them.<p>

Eliot rolled his eyes. "She's probably already expelled for stealing something."

"The blonde one is a thief?" Hermione scrunched her eyebrows worriedly, looking at Eliot.

Nate interrupted Eliot's response. "HURR HOW LONG DID IT TAKE YOU TO FIGURE THAT ONE OUT?"

Hermione looked somewhat taken aback. "I was just asking. Furthermore, I think she might have stolen my _Hogwarts, A History_ copy last night as I was sleeping. It's gone."

Ron yawned. "Yeah, I saw her lugging something really heavy and boring out of the common room this morning. Oh wait, that was you, Hermione!" Harry looked at Ron disapprovingly; why did his friend have to be so mean? You'd think that Ron would take after he, Harry. After all, he was easily the best person at Hogwarts.

Before Hermione could hex the redhead, McGonagall walked swiftly down the corridor. She shuffled them inside the classroom without a second glance, walking to her desk and picking up a piece of parchment.

"Now, the Headmaster has requested me to read this to all of my classes." McGonagall unfolded the parchment crossly, stretching it out. "I do not exactly, as you say, _approve_ of what is said in this announcement, but unfortunately I have no choice." She cleared her throat.

"_Why hello there, my beautiful students! You are obviously in Minnie's classroom right now, as I told her to read this to her classes. If, perhaps, you found this in her trash can or trampled on the floor, make sure to give it back to her, she probably accidently dropped it! She's rather forgetful (but that comes with age, if you catch my drift)._"

McGonagall scowled at the parchment and continued.

"_Anyhoo, we unfortunately cannot discuss such things for much longer, as I am running out of writing room. The initial point of this announcement is to remind you to be extra extra nice to our five new students(especially you Gryffindors! Go lions!), and don't do anything to hurt their feelings. They are really lovely people, I've talked to them, I would know. Also, there has been a nasty rumor spread around the school. I'm not dating Minerva SO STOP SPREADING IT DAMNIT. I am so tired of her chewing me out about it. She thinks __**I**__ spread it. May the real rumor starter come forward so she will stop nagging me. You will not be punished. (If you pretend you did it to save my skin I'll pay you ten galleons and give you two lemon drops. Shh)._

_Sincerely, _

_Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore._"

As McGonagall read the last paragraph her scowl slowly deepened, and before the students could start murmuring to each other she had already set fire to the parchment, watching it burn with deep satisfaction. The class seized an opportunity to gossip.

"Be nice to _them_? I'd rather eat a Devil's Snare."

"They scare me. I hope I never have to work with them."

"They are SO annoying, I hear they steal, too."

"McGonagall's name is Minerva?"

"SILENCE." McGonagall snapped, pulling out her wand. "Now, as there are new faces in my class today, I unfortunately must explain the art of Transfiguration to them." She sighed deeply. "Transfiguration requires a focused mind. It is the art of transfiguring objects into something else, and very experienced wizards can even transfigure objects from thin air. I-"

"Excccuse me ma'aaaam." Sophie trilled, looking up politely. "So you're basically saying we're going to be like, that movie, Transformers? Because I wanna be Meghan Fox."

A few Muggle born students laughed at her, but McGonagall didn't seem to understand. "I don't know what the hell you're talking about. Moving on-"

Sophie raised her hand. McGongall sighed again. "WHAT?"

"Miss Parker is not currently present, Professor." Sophie looked around the room. "That means, if you can't understand, that you're incompetent for not realizing this."

"DETENTION DEVEREAUX, AND GET THE HELL OUT OF MY CLASSROOM!" McGonagall looked seriously pissed. Sophie huffed, got up, muttered something under her breath that sounded like "Fine, bitch." And strutted out.

And then there were three.

* * *

><p>"Miss Parker, why, do tell me, are you not in class?"<p>

Snape towered over her, his robes bellowing in the cold breeze his presence had caused. Parker scrunched her eyebrows in concentration, trying to remember who this guy was. It clicked.

"You're that ugly guy that led us to the room with food and people. Snate, right?"

Snape narrowed his already narrowed eyes. "_Professor Snape_, Miss Parker. I expect you to call me "professor" or "sir" when talking to me."

"Okay Snate."

Snape turned white with fury, but when he spoke it was merely a whisper. "Detention, Miss Parker, and get back to class. I do not want to see you wandering around during class hours again." He turned to walk away, but she tugged on the end of his robes.

"Help me up Snate."

Snape, in all his years of teaching, had never met a student that did not fear him. Parker blinked at him expectantly, tugging on his robes again. He just stood there, in a state of shock, and finally Parker just clawed her way up his robes, causing him to fall on his ass. "Bye Snate!"

* * *

><p>"Parker never made it to class." Eliot growled as he, Hardison, and Nate walked out of Transfiguration. They soon found Sophie chatting animatedly to what appeared to be a ghost. They stopped a few feet from her, watching curiously as the ghosts hovered a few feet in the air.<p>

"Yeah, I can totally relate, I almost got my head chopped off last Christmas. The machete came out of nowhere." Sophie said to the ghost.

The ghost nodded enthusiastically, and to the three men's horror, his head broke off from his neck and bobbed there, as if on a hinge.

"Guys, this is Nick. He's like, a ghost." Sophie drawled, waving her hand through Nick, who giggled uncontrollably. Nick nodded, his head bobbing, before grabbing it with both hands and putting it back on his shoulders with a loud crunch.

"That's REALLY gross." Hardison whimpered, slowly backing up, pushing Nate a little closer to Nick. Nick scoffed with offense before turning back to Sophie, a grin spread across his features.

"Now, if there's nothing else I can help you with, you should probably be getting to your next class. But do call if you need anything else. I'll be there." Nick started to float away ominously, passing over several first years, who screamed and fell to the floor.

"He was terribly boring." Sophie yawned, looking at Nate and the rest out of the corners of her eyes. "We better hurry along, Divination is next." Sophie looked crossly at the door to the Transfiguration classroom. "One day, I tell you, I'm going to get her back. On my honor."

"Well, you DO have a detention." Eliot pointed out airily, looking at Sophie with undisguised amusement. "I suppose you'll probably have to sit in the class and do your homework or something really gay like that."

Hardison frowned at Eliot's choice of word, _gay_, but didn't push it. Instead, he grabbed Nate and Sophie by the arms and started to drag them to Divination. "I don't know about you guys, but I really need to know what's in store. A little luck wouldn't be bad, either."

* * *

><p>They met up with Parker at the entrance to the Divination classroom. She said she was in the Headmaster's office getting lemon drops, but Sophie rolled her eyes and Eliot whistled rather badly as she finished her tale. Parker decided she shouldn't mention meeting Snape in the corridors; they would probably be jealous and skip class to try and meet him alone. So she remained silent on that bit of information, smiled stupidly, and pelted them with lemon drops.<p>

The classroom was hot and steamy, with poofy chairs all around and old as shit tables scattered about. Nate scowled as he gently sat in one of the more stable seats, looking as if he thought the chair would break at any moment under his weight. Hardison screamed as a giant praying mantis came from the shadows.

Eliot laughed at Hardison's fear. "C'mon dude, she's skinny, but she's not a skeleton." He peered at the teacher again. "Well..."

He didn't get to finish because at that moment the bug-like teacher started to speak in a hushed tone, creeping around the room all the while on her toes.

"Welcome. The Fates had of course predicted the coming of _five_-" She looked almost fearfully at the five adults sitting in her room before continuing. "But one must not dwell on predictions, as I have on occasion falsely predicted an occurrence."

Hermione snorted.

Nate stared at her kind of awestruck. "You're _hot_." He murmured, his eyes glued to her. Eliot fake gagged and Hardison fell out of his chair. Sophie, however, looked quite unimpressed.

"Why do you slouch so much?" She yawned, blinking her eyes at Trelawney. Eliot kicked her, angry that she was about to piss off another teacher. If he remembered anything from school, it was that crabby teachers always seemed to get pissed at him. But Trelawney merely ignored her, acting as if she did not hear Sophie(which she did).

"Today we will be studying tea leaves." She started, and soon the class each had a tea cup and a partner(Nate, Sophie; Eliot, Hardison; Parker, that creepy kid Neville).

"So we just drink the tea and then look at the grime at the bottom?" Parker raised her cup upside down curiously, the hot tea spilled out and running in Neville's lap. He screamed and winced, hastily brushing the seething liquid off of him and leaving a nasty brown stain all over his pants.

"Ouch! Why'd you do that?" He asked exasperatedly, still wincing from the pain. Parker felt kind of bad, so she poured more tea in her cup and offered it to him. He looked at it cautiously, a somewhat scared expression on his pale face. "Uh, thanks, but I have my own." He pointed to his cup. Parker shrugged and jerked it back, causing the tea to spill all over his shirt and run down to his pants again. Neville cried.

While Trelawney was escorting Neville to the hospital wing, Parker looked down into her cup. A mess shaped like a goat was at the bottom, and she pulled out her book and flicked through the pages. "Goat. It means...it means..." She looked up, a grim expression on her face.

"It means I will die."

* * *

><p>Sterling's nose was planted firmly to the ground as he sniffed for the con artist scent, having lost it in the rain. His clothes were muddy and his hair was plastered to his forehead from the build up of grease. But he didn't care. He was close.<p>

Who would have thought that they'd be in Europe? It was ridiculous. Laughable, even. Oh well. He was an arm length's away from getting his revenge, and it didn't help to ponder irrelevant details. He was currently slithering through a nasty European town like a snake, traveling through the sewers and swinging on the cable lines. Ford's horrible cologne was the easiest scent to detect, though the collection of smells were off, like they hadn't actually walked through where their scent was. Oh well. Again with the details.

Sterling lifted his nose sharply, a "paw" in the air as his eyes darted around suspiciously. His gaze fell on a dirty sheet of paper stamped to a telephone post. He cautiously approached it, ripping it off with little effort and reading it quickly. He looked up, a smirk much like Snape's on his sweaty face. That's what he needed. Someone to help him extract his revenge. He crumpled the paper in a ball and threw it to the side carelessly, starting into a sprint and running down the street, his clothes waving in the harsh wind. The idea, so complex, sketched itself in his mind. He needed someone to do his dirty work. Someone who had experience.

He needed Sirius Black.

* * *

><p>"Hey Eliot, did you notice how Parker didn't talk much after that Neville kid left? She looked in her teacup and put down the lemon drop she was about to eat."<p>

"In all honestly Hardison, I don't think it's possible for me to give less of a shit about what you just said."

Hardison slumped sadly, but soon brightened and sprinted up to Nate. They were walking down steep steps to the dungeons, where their final lesson of the day would take place. Sophie was ahead of the rest of the third years, eager to see the sexy teacher. "Hey Nate, do you know what's wrong with Parker?"

Nate yawned. "No, and at the moment it isn't one of my top priorities. What IS on the list is how I'm going to get through a lesson with that Snape guy. He really is rude, that man. I should-" Nate stopped. He was staring at something.

"What is it?" Hardison asked, following his gaze.

"That." Nate said, not pointing. He walked over to a dusty corner where a piece of fabric lay, hidden by years of dust and cobwebs. He pulled it up with one sharp jerk and dust exploded everywhere, but Nate kept a firm grip on the fabric. He gingerly brushed the dust off, looking curiously at it. It was a scarf; it appeared to have been a rainbow color scheme, but the colors had almost faded to a dull gray. Hardison stared at it.

"It's a crappy scarf. C'mon we're gonna be late." But Nate didn't move. Something about this scarf, something about it, made him feel like it was powerful. But what it did he didn't know. He shoved it in one of his pockets and quickly followed the Hacker down.

The dungeons were cold as ice and as the Gryffidors reached the entrance to the classroom they started to shiver. Standing with an air of smugness were the third year Slytherins, a blond ratfaced boy standing out in particular. He whispered something to a couple of Slytherins and they all laughed, looking pointedly at the five new students. Parker frowned, and Harry piped up reassuringly. "Don't worry. Malfoy's just Slytherin scum. Pay him no attention."

Meanwhile, Draco was talking loudly to Crabbe and Goyle. "Well _I_ don't think they are who they say they are. Grown people who don't even know they're wizards? Very dodgy."

"Yeah Draco." Pansy giggled, shooting glances at the five. The temperature was steadily dropping, but Sophie's face burned bright red and she stomped up to the pug-faced girl and slapped her clear across the face.

"How about you and Ratface go get a room? Just one question though." Sophie said sweetly. "When he get's you pregnant, can I have one of the puppies?"

"By golly, she's crazy." Ron whispered as the scene unfolded itself. Draco had pulled out his wand and was failing to do whatever curse or jinx he was attempting. Pansy was screeching with undisguised fury, and Sophie just had her arms folded and was looking almost as smug as the Slytherins had.

It was almost a blessing when Snape appeared.

As he scolded the three involved and shuffled the class inside, Parker drooped her head and looked at her team sadly. They did not yet know of her fate. She would have to tell them soon.

Snape assigned them a simple potion and went to work silently at his desk, avoiding the suggestive looks Sophie was giving him. Soon, though, she started to catcall him, and he had to deal with that. "Mrs. Devereaux, I have been informed that you already have a detention. Would you like one more?"

Sophie didn't even blink. "If it's with you, yes." She blew him a rather daring kiss.

Snape's eyes narrowed. "Why , if anyone would handle your punishment, I expect it would be Filch. He's been talking about how dirty the Astronomy tower is. Would you like that?"

Again, Sophie didn't blink. "Would you pick me up afterwards and lead me to your chambers?"

"No. Ten points from Gryffindor for your cheek."

"Well I don't even know what that means so whatever." Sophie yawned, throwing ingredients randomly in her cauldron and stirring with a bored expression. The Gryffindors were all glaring at her while the Slytherins were cheering. ("Continue, Devereaux! I'm sure you'll get him if you keep trying!")

The rest of the class was rather uneventful, except for one moment where Parker spilled her potion all over Neville, who had to be readmitted to the hospital wing.

Snape was finally at peace when he dismissed the class, and he leaned back and rubbed his eyes tiredly. All was well, except for when a rough voice interrupted his thoughts. "Oi! Proffesor!"

"What, Mr. Spencer, would be so important that you had to disrupt my almost peaceful moment?"

Eliot reappeared in the doorway, an unreadable expression on his face. "Listen teachz, I used to suffer with the same problem. But ever since I tried Suave, things have been different."

"What?"

Eliot held up a bottle of Suave shampoo and pointed to the logo. "You can never do wrong with Suave. Ever since I started using it, my hair has been soft and luscious."

"Get. Out." Snape said through gritted teeth, pointing toward the door with a shaking hand.

"I know where the door is. And look, I used to be insecure too, but Suave changes that. It is by far the best hair care product I have ever used."

"Get out! 20 points from Gryffindor!"

"Here's what I'm gonna do." Eliot said, putting the bottle down on a nearby desk. "I'm gonna leave this bottle here for you to try, free of charge. It's my own personal bottle, but I think you should have it." He started to back out of the classroom. "But I promise you, you will not regret switching to Suave from whatever brand you're using right now. Trust me dude, it isn't working."

"OUT!"

Eliot vanished from the door, and as his echoed footsteps started to fade he called out "You won't regret it!" and finally there was silence.

Snape walked over, took the bottle, and threw it in the trash.

Damn metrosexuals.


End file.
